


i’ll be twenty minutes to sleep before i dream of some epiphany

by unusannus



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Why Did I Write This?, a lot of reminiscing, and a big helping of where did i go wrong, because they’re family, there’s a lot of sadness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unusannus/pseuds/unusannus
Summary: Joel in his final moments.
Relationships: Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	i’ll be twenty minutes to sleep before i dream of some epiphany

**Author's Note:**

> uhh this is like the saddest thing i’ve ever written i’m sorry
> 
> edit: changed the title to a more fitting one

The air stills around Joel. He’s not sure why they all stare at him in unison, like predators waiting out their prey. His heart beats accelerates almost immediately, his hands feel clammy as he wipes them on his jeans. He studies the room, knowing that even if he got the chance to escape he'd be greeted by a raging blizzard.

He’s beginning to realize that they  _ have  _ heard of them. Tommy seems to come to the same conclusion from across the room, eyeing him with a look of concern as if to ask  _ Where the hell did we end up? _

Then, the girl, Abby, is telling him, “That’s because we have.” blowing off a chunk of his knee with her shotgun.

He’s on the floor before he knows it, clutching at the bloody mess that is now his leg. All he can get out are grunts and groans as he sees Tommy get knocked out.

They drag him, his knee bending in excruciating pain. Leaning on a wall, he’s pinned down by two of their guys, as if he actually had the ability to even go anywhere now. Abby stands over him, a permanent scowl set on her face as she stares in disgust. He stares back, not wanting to show anymore weakness than he already has.

“Joel Miller.” She spits out. 

His brows scrunch in frustration, “Who are you?” His knee burns as if it’s been set on fire.

“Guess.”

He doesn’t know. He’s certain he’s never seen this girl, but she seems to know all about him. He lifts his chin up, the pangs of hot pain hitting him hard, “Why don’t you say whatever speech you got rehearsed and get this over with.”

She steps back, turning to another girl with a pixie cut, asking her to “Tourniquet his leg.” The other girl falters and Abby demands, “Do it.” 

Now, he understands that a quick death isn’t what they had planned. Whatever he did to Abby pushed her to do this to him. He gets lost in his mind, searching through memories of times before Jackson, before he would have ever called himself a good man. He knows that his past is not a clean one.

He’s killed people, dozens upon dozens of them, People who could be considered good and bad. People who were just surviving day to day as he had been. Somehow one day, he had found that switch in himself that controlled his morality. It had been off for a very long time. Flipped the minute Sarah had breathed her last in his arms.

Then, of course, came Ellie. Ellie in all her teenage angst and rebellion mixed with dumb puns and sarcastic remarks. That scrawny girl who had pulled her knife on him the very first time they met. The same one who would cower into his shoulder when they watched a scary movie, and him going along with it as if it were nothing to be embarrassed about. Before they had fallen apart from each other.

He remembers her confessing that everybody except for fucking  _ him _ had either left her or died. He remembers not wanting to believe it because deep down he cared deeply for her. He loved her so much he couldn’t fathom the idea of someone wanting to willingly leave her alone. 

She had told him that, too. It was before they arrived in Jackson, but after leaving St. Mary’s. She admitted that she was terrified of ending up without anybody. And now what? Ellie was going to lose him. Was that it? Their 5 years, of which the better part were spent avoiding each other, were done. Reconciliation had not even lasted a full twenty-four hours.

Abby’s voice pulls him away from his thoughts, “You stupid old man.” She sneers, grabbing a golf club and readying a swing, “You don’t get to rush this.”

The club crashes against his cheek before he can get another word out.

**_____**

He lays on the floor, red seeping out of every wound on his body. He can’t move anymore, the power to even lift a finger had left him by the twentieth or so swing. His face rests on the cool floor, relishing in the refreshing sensation. Licking his lips, all he tastes is metal. 

She had been going at him for a while now. It could’ve been minutes or hours. He had no idea. His eyes have stayed shut, not wanting to look at their faces. Distant memories of happier times keep him together. He doesn’t want to die looking at the perpetrators of his agonizing final moments because he knew there was no getting out of this now.

Suddenly, he hears the door to the room swing open, followed by a loud thud. 

He doesn’t care enough to open his eyes and see what’s happening. He focuses on recalling all those times he and Tommy went out to the bar to have a drink and talk about patrol. He focuses on the time a young boy’s parents asked him to carve a wooden horse for the kid’s birthday, which he had happily done. He focuses on last night, and how Ellie had said she would like to try to forgive.

She was going to  _ try.  _ She had promised him that. 

Even as a mangled mess of red, black, and blue on the floor, he clings that statement with all his might. He needed to go remembering that.

Someone yells, “Pin her down!” 

“Get the fuck off me!” 

Was that Ellie? No, it couldn’t be. 

“You’re gonna fucking die!”

But, it sounded just like her. Was he hallucinating?

The group is arguing with each other over how they could let someone break in. A man’s voice cuts through saying, “You’re done.”

“You want what I want, right?” Abby questions him.

He doesn’t hesitate, “End it. Now.”

A voice, terrified out of their mind speaks out, “Joel, get up.”

Shit, that was Ellie. She was here. She wanted to save him. 

He opens his eyes wearily, vision fuzzy as the pain has numbed him. Looking in front of him, he sees her in the same position, pinned down. Her face has some blood on it as well, and he prays to god to let him get up and kill the pieces of shit that decided to hurt her. 

Her eyes speak more words than she’s saying. He wants so badly to comfort her, to hold her hand and whisper that it’ll be okay, that she’ll be okay. But, he can’t. He knows this is not something she will move on from lightly. She was too goddamn stubborn for that.

“Joel, fucking get up!” She screams out to him, “Please stop!” She begs Abby, on the verge of tears.

“Please don’t do this!” Joel feels his chest tighten as she pleads, sounding like a scared kid. And that’s exactly what she was in the moment. At nineteen, he still thought of her as a kid. A kid who had to grow up too fast, her moments of reprieve in Jackson ended here, with him. Whatever became of her after this was his fault. 

If only forgiveness had come sooner.

The last thing he can hear is Ellie yelling, “Joel, please get up!” One final time. 

The last thought he has is,  _ I want to, Ellie. I really do. _

He moves his hand slightly forward, as if reaching out to her. His muscles strain and yet he does not stop. She notices his movement. He tries to say something,  _ anything _ , and nothing comes out.

But, Ellie is transfixed on his hand, stretched out for her.

She mimics him, fingertips barely brushing over his. Her cheeks are wet with tears and even more stream out as they share this moment of understanding.

He hopes it is enough for her as the club meets his body for the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> that last part isn’t in canon, but, like, IT SHOULD BE
> 
> i re-watched his death to get dialogue and scenes right and wow that is something i will never do ever again willingly 
> 
> realistically, troy and neil have said that joel probably wasn’t even really conscious by the time ellie came in but i just wanted to write my take on if he was.


End file.
